


Forever and for Always: Jehovah's Forbidden Love Story

by Marilyn_Belrose



Category: Jehovahs Witnesses
Genre: Bisexuality, Coming Out, Coming of Age, F/F, Lesbian, Love, Religion, Religious Cults, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27050611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marilyn_Belrose/pseuds/Marilyn_Belrose
Summary: If you are a PIMO Jehovah's Witness, then this Summer you watched two women fall in love but never act on their feelings thanks to religious zealotry. Here is the Jade x Neeta story, un-censored and un-brainwashed.Jade is a headstrong woman looking for the answers to life, love, and the world around her. Neeta is a woman who believes she has every possible answer. Once the two worlds clash, neither will ever be the same. Will religion and "Godly Love" win out and keep the two apart, letting True Love Fail?Written with every PIMO in mind, this one is for every LGBT person suffering for the sake of man-made religion.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This "fanfiction" is for every single LGBT+ youth who feels trapped in a world that refuses to acknowledge their humanity. You are worth it, and it will get better.

Introduction |  
IN THE BEGINNING

I know the truth about Jehovah’s Witnesses.  
But it wasn’t always that way. The “Truth about the Truth” is well hidden from the rank and file  
When I first met Neeta, I was genuinely curious about the religion, and I hadn’t given up on the idea of a God.   
I feared death, my uncle had just passed, I was vulnerable and had just begun learning about the world around me while getting my first taste of adult stresses and wondering when it would all be over. The door was unlocked, and she knew exactly how to convince me to let her in.  
The way she spoke, the way she presented my questions back to me, making me feel like I was answering them, validating my fear of death by telling me it’s because humans were never meant to die, imperfection being a genetic defect, and the sugary sweet promise of a perfect world, I gobbled up every lie like it was the most savory of truths.  
I felt like I was learning, truly learning about the Bible, God, and life. The spirit world became real to me, immortality was reachable, my fears of death quenched with the promise of never dying.  
And through our studies, I was happy.  
Being a Jehovah’s Witness gave you this wonderful rush of superiority. You felt better than everyone around you, and your false egotism was stroked further by the many hands of those in the congregation who were absolutely elated with your progress.  
The love bombing made you feel wanted, they got you addicted to the rush of smiling faces surrounding you and congratulating you, like a drug pusher giving you your first hit free so you come back for more. In exchange for that rush of love that would get any left-out emotionally insecure individual hooked, you had to sign your soul away.  
I’m not kidding, or even slightly exaggerating. Baptism holds far more importance to Jehovah’s Witnesses than it does to your everyday Catholic or Sunday Christian. To Jehovah’s Witnesses, baptism was a covenant, a holy contract between you and God. That dunk under the gentle surface, into a pool of chlorinated water, was not just a quick bath while hundreds around you cheered you on. The moment your hair got wet your life now belonged to Jehovah.  
I didn’t know this when I first met Neeta. I didn’t know how deep the rabbit hole went or what I would be subjected to on the way down.  
I didn’t know that I would fall deep down into a pit of tender hellfire that engulfed me with emotion and confusion.  
I didn’t know I’d fall in love with her, and I didn’t know what to do about it when I did.  
The fall began in Autumn, it began when my jaded glaze met her cheerful face, when a sign reading Learn Bible Truths stood out in vibrant colors against the pale greying landscape.   
It was I who approached her, I opened that door. It was my fault that I got into this mess. It was my fault for tripping and falling down the rabbit-hole.  
But her intoxicating smile warmed me to my core, and all I could think about was how much I wanted that. I wanted true happiness too.  
She began to study with me shortly after our first chat. In the beginning, our meetings together were short and sweet. We would meet at this cute little coffee shop up the road. We’d sit at the same cozy green chairs and I’d gaze about at the same paintings of children playing with animals in various backgrounds and settings, and I’d order the same pumpkin spiced something and she’d meticulously fit pieces of a muffin into her mouth while we opened up these little silver books and read aloud tales of hypocritical “Godly love.” In between these study sessions, we’d talk about our lives, our relationships, our struggles. I got to know and appreciate the young woman who I spent my free time with, she became a friend of mine, one of very few. And I confessed to her that I didn’t have many friends.  
That’s when she began harassing me into coming to the Kingdom Hall. I was swamped with work and school, but I did eventually begin going. I didn’t even realize that she had guilted me into it, but once I went one time, I felt obligated to return and see my new “friends.”  
That’s how they get you, you know? They introduce you to all these new people, interesting men and women with amazing stories from their youth, all who firmly hold true the values you have been given, the personality you’re now expected to have. If you say no, they don’t leave you alone. They keep going, they keep chipping away unless you really put your foot down. And once you say yes, they shower you with love, because you have made the right choice, you have made the choice that will provide you with everlasting life and a chance to see your dead loved ones again.  
And to keep you going, you’re suddenly cutoff from your “worldly” friends, of which I didn’t have many to begin with. In fact, it got to the point where the only non-JW’s I spoke to were my immediate family and my boyfriend.  
Our chats grew longer, our studies became more frequent, and even just missing one meeting due to school or simple exhaustion sent us both into a bout of mild irritation.  
Then came the point where Neeta started meddling in my personal life. My boyfriend and I hadn’t been doing well regardless, and he had no interest in tying the knot even if I had wanted to. I knew he was fucking around with other girls and it had gotten to the point where I didn’t care anymore. We had tried to work things out, but Neeta’s talk of “immorality being disgraceful to Jehovah” just made the breakup easier to finally accomplish.  
“You broke up with Ben?”  
“Yeah,” I sucked in my lip and smiled with a giddy feeling, I never thought I would feel happy about telling a friend that I had broken up with my boyfriend, but I was proud of myself for taking a step for Jehovah.  
Neeta did not seem convinced in my happiness, “I am so sorry, you must be in a lot of pain right now.”  
I gave her a confused look, “Jade, he was so-” I searched for words, but decided to keep my talk of my ex short, “it really isn’t as bad as you’d think, it was coming. I delayed the inevitable for months. Your encouragement made me realize it was something I needed to do.”  
She reached out to hold my hand gently, cold fingertips resting against mine. I felt a butterfly make its way from my stomach into my neck, and I looked at her expectantly as she spoke, “even so, I’m here for you.”  
Those subtle flirts kept me going during the nights when I thought about ending it. I kept going regardless, yes, but I didn’t realize just how much I was doing purely so that I could be around her more.   
I informed her that I wanted to get baptized and she in turn began bringing me in service and taking me to JW gatherings. When I felt uncomfortable or nervous when out preaching she’d hold the small of my back to show support, she even held my hand after answering at meetings, her thumb running over my skin, and she would always say “I’m so proud of you!” and I’d smile in return and say “I have a great teacher.”  
And just like that, I was being strung along the Elder’s baptism questions like a rake over sand. They showed up at my flat two at a time, stayed for thirty minutes to get through the questions, then arranged for the next set to come a week later.  
Thanks to Neeta’s assistance and preparation, I passed with flying colors, and within a year of meeting her, getting to know her, and being brainwashed into believing this was God’s one true religion, I was baptized.  
The water was warm as I entered, which was a massive relief to me. I was pretty worried that I’d have to penguin walk on in and freeze as I went under, but they had enough sense to heat the pool to a pretty comfortable temperature.  
I held my nose and my arms close to my chest, closed my eyes, and the brother holding my shoulders forced me back and forwards quickly, the signing of my imaginary contract was complete. Easy peezy I thought as I smiled at Neeta and headed for the exit.  
She held me close as we walked away from the baptism pool; I felt warm leaning my head on her shoulder, I felt cared for and loved. But as we sat down at our seats and I caught a young man conservatively flirting with her on the other side of the row of chairs, and I felt a burning heat run up my spine and rest at the back of my head and found myself biting at my lip in jealousy, I came to realize my feelings for Neeta were a little bit more than just sisterly, though looking back, those feelings were always there.  
Only then was I acknowledging their presence, the butterflies when she touched me, the excitement to study with her, the way I swooned when she told me how proud she was of me, I was falling in love with her.  
No, I was already in love with her.  
I looked at Neeta, her eyes fixated on the bible verse in her tablet that was being read aloud to the thousands in attendance, and I held back a squint of sadness and dissatisfaction, why did I agree to this?  
What had I gotten myself into?!


	2. Chapter 1 | ONE WOMAN, ONE MAN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade has begun her journey into the world of the witnesses, and every day her attraction for Neeta grows into something more. She begins to wonder if joining a religion for a girl who may never love her is really worth the pain, but she soon discovers there is pleasure even in being an overly chaste witness.

Chapter 1 |  
ONE WOMAN, ONE MAN

“Homosexuality is a sin in God’s eyes.  
“Let us never forget how Jehovah keeps us safe from the unclean nature of this world through careful, gentle guidance towards truth and only truth,” the brother on stage shifted his weight, adjusted his tie, and tapped his tablet to keep it on as he continued his assigned drivel, “yes, as God guides us in the light of his word, let us never be like the people in the world who twist scripture to serve their own agendas. Jehovah made it clear in the Garden of Eden that his intention for the human family was to begin with one woman and one man, not two women, not two men, one woman, one man. This family unit is the key to happiness.”  
I shivered from the chill of the hall, they always kept it so fucking cold in there.  
And of course, when you ask why that is, they always say “ha, it’s to keep you awake!” Then they laugh, and you’re expected to just laugh along, ignoring the fact that they would rather you be uncomfortable for two hours than risk you falling asleep during your biweekly brainwashing session.  
I always figured the real reason was because they didn’t want young sisters showing off their bodies or wearing anything too above the knee or too below the breast.  
Two weeks after my first meeting, Neeta had to take me shopping for a few new dresses, Kingdom Hall approved sister-wear, because everything I owned was, according to the blunt explanation of nosy Elder Harold, “worldly and unbecoming of a female,” particularly speaking, it was my short black dress adorned with roses made of skulls that set him off. Cliché, I know, but I liked it, it was a gift from my mother last Christmas.  
As much as I wanted to flip him the bird and tell him to suck my cock, I obliged. I had to “put on the new personality,” after all. It’s a JW saying for when a non-JW sheds their independent thinking, interests, hobbies and fashion choices and becomes more Witness-like.  
So, for the sake of not offending others, Neeta and I had a mall day. She picked me up around 12PM on a Saturday and we began wandering through the halls of capitalism at its finest. The shops were alight with Valentine’s Day décor and I felt the desire to pluck a flower from one of the planters and place it in her hair.  
It might surprise a born-in firmly believing Jehovah’s Witness that same-love is not any different from the love they believe Adam and Eve shared. I had dated women in the past, there is nothing scary or unnatural about girls kissing or making love.  
But as a Jehovah’s Witness, I was forbidden from acting on my desires, and I had begun mentally kicking myself every time the thoughts cropped up. Perhaps that’s why it took me so long to acknowledge I even had feelings for her. The feeling was there, and so were the reactions, but before I could acknowledge it I was already in the process of suppressing it.  
Neeta paused in the center of the mall, looking at me expectantly as she held her purse close, “now, which store would you like to check out for a dress?”   
I huffed and looked around, I gravitated towards Spency’s, a rather adult pop culture store, but I had no idea how Neeta would react to such an atmosphere.  
“Perhaps we can just have a look around?” I said, insinuating to myself that I could perhaps lure her into Spency’s a little later, just to test the waters of her wild side, if she had one. I know I never quite managed to give up on my rebellious tendencies.  
“Alright, I’ll just bring you to my favorites first then.”   
I followed her along to shops I hadn’t been in since my mother was still taking me to the mall, shops with plain, clean, safe fashions that were fine if you truly enjoyed them, but confining if this is what was expected of you.  
And this long skirted, plain-Jane, conservatively designed "Kingdom Hall Approved" meeting wear was now what was expected of me.   
Me, the girl whose spirit animal was a mule, I was being expected to do something I didn’t want to do.  
And I was doing it.  
I didn't like being expected to do anything, I didn't like towing the line or being predictable. When my mom assumed I would become a vet when I grew up, I went into criminology. When my boyfriend assumed I was an atheist, I began looking into religion and attending church services.  
When I assumed I would dump Neeta the moment she tried getting me to go to meetings, I sat in a dressing room staring at five outfits that were absolutely not my style while contemplating why I was going through so much for one girl.  
No, its for God, I told myself, my lies becoming harder to believe as I stood on the fence between belief and disbelief.   
It was insanity. I felt like I was going insane. I felt trapped between two people, the one who wanted to be a jolly church girl, and another who wanted shove my bible teacher into a wall and kiss her.  
I sifted through the outfits, my eyes quickly scanning each and haphazardly tossing them over my shoulder in a bout of frustration until I reached the last one, a blue dress with a silver rim, tank-style, simple. The shade was like my own eyes, identical, I couldn’t help but think that’s why Neeta picked it out for me.  
Had she gazed into my eyes enough to know just the right shade of fabric to match them, to know they had the slightest silver rim?  
Or was I overanalyzing a simple hanger toss into a pile of clothes she knew I would reject the moment I touched them?  
I made up my mind, I would try, just until I knew if she did, if she could, feel the same way about me as I was feeling about her. I put on the dress and tried not to strike any pose that might make me look evermore witness-like.  
I heard a knock at the door and twitched in surprise, “Jade? Everything alright?”  
I shyly grabbed the handle and pulled it in, revealing the one dress I could bring myself to agree to, and perhaps even feel comfortable in.  
Neeta smiled, visibly searching for words. At first it seemed like she didn’t like it, perhaps it came up too high or the shoulders were too revealing? Perhaps she liked it a lot and didn’t want to say just how much?  
“It looks beautiful,” she nodded slightly.  
“No offense, but it’s the only one I really liked.”  
“I can tell, you didn’t even bother trying on the others,” she chuckled, and I instinctively reached up to twirl my hair.   
“They really weren’t my style.”  
“Well, I had a feeling this would be the one, do you need a zip up?”  
I nodded and stepped back as she came inside the booth, touching my shoulders lightly as I turned around and tried not to think about her seeing the back of my bra.  
Something about the mix between a lack of sex and the requirement put upon me to be chaste made her simply touching just above my rump while her other hand dragged the zipper up my back extremely erotic for me. I hadn’t felt such overwhelming desire since puberty hit, how in the world do the JW’s get by without fucking each other like rabbits?  
I suppose that was why many of them got married so young I suppose. Within my attending meetings to the day of my baptism, two couples met and got married in Neeta’s hall. A third couple were engaged as of July with a wedding planned next June, but the elders got on them for waiting so long, saying temptation would be too immense and Satan would work to break their “three-fold-cord” with God, so they moved it to December that year.  
Of course, the elders then got on them for attending to the “worldly view of a Christmas wedding,” so they moved it again to November.  
I didn’t even know there was a “worldly view of a Christmas wedding,” but the elders had a way of making shit up on the spot and getting everyone to blindly move forward with it.  
I couldn’t imagine losing Neeta to some bloke in the Kingdom Hall, a man with no personality or career goals who just wants to up his status in the congregation or a closeted young man who just wants his dad to get off him about his flamboyancy.  
I could tell Neeta wanted to get married. I saw the way her eyes perked up in the mall when we walked past a white dress in the window, the way she stopped and stared at the bridal shop, sighing longingly at the mannequins that enticed her to go in and just gaze at the pricey, diamond laced gowns while mentally envisioning her special day.  
I reached out for her hand as she gazed at the gowns, and she turned to me with a smile, “do you ever think about getting married, Jade?”  
My heart perked up in my chest as I flushed red, “of course. Doesn’t everyone?”  
She shrugged, “my flat-mate has been talking about getting married lately. She’s interested in a brother and they’ve been talking about taking the next step, but he’s in a congregation about an hour from here.”  
“Wouldn’t that leave you alone though?”  
She raised her eyebrows, as though she hadn’t thought about that part yet, “well, yeah, but I’m sure I’ll find someone by then.”  
“How are you so sure?”  
She rolled her eyes, “I don’t, but, there’s always assemblies and conventions, you always meet new friends at those.”  
“Nobody in your hall interests you?”  
She laughed, “there’s only single sisters now, Jade!”  
I couldn’t even bring myself to jokingly insinuate that I could be an option for marriage material, and I sighed, remembering the person I was supposed to be, fighting with the person I was. I decided to see if I could hang onto any aspect of my personality from the world.  
Those longing eyes of hers spoke wonders to me, how beautiful she would look in a wedding dress, yes, but how amazing would she feel on her wedding night?  
It was time to see if I could push her out of her comfort zone, and perhaps to the edge of my new one.  
“Do you wanna check out Spency’s?”  
“Spency’s?” I didn’t see immediate disgust in her eyes, so I just giggled and pulled her with me as I lead the way.  
We walked into the dark shop with the blaring metal and the blinking pink disco lights, and I felt Neeta immediately clench up.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“This is a very worldly store, Jade.”  
I sighed, “if you don’t want to come in that’s fine, but there’s something I need to get.”  
Neeta raised an eyebrow, “what could you possibly need from in here?”  
I let go of her hand and took a step in before looking at her over my shoulder and smiling, “a vibrator.”  
“A what?!” she looked offended and a little pissed off, so I took a few more steps inside and watched her follow behind. I turned to her as she reached out and put her hands on my arms scoldingly, “have you not learned anything from our studies, Jade?”  
I nodded, “I learned about paradise, I learned not to have sex before marriage, and I learned that Jesus died for my sins,” I paused, she looked perplexed, “and I learned nothing about my sexual health having to take a backseat until I got married.”  
I began walking again towards the back where they keep the goodies, Neeta followed on my heels, not having a word to say as her eyes saw pink dong for the first time in her life.  
I looked to her as she shot her hand up to her mouth, speechless, as though she really never saw a fake penis before.  
Or a real one? Not even a picture? Did she know what a penis was?  
I grinned as she lowered her hands slowly, the look in her eyes changing from disgust to confusion. She pointed to a large box with a picture of a horse on it, “is that-”  
I grabbed it excitedly, opening the flap to show her that yes, it indeed was a horse-sized dildo.  
She looked at it with embarrassment, her white coffee cheeks flushing ruby red before she asked “how do women even do anything with that?”  
“I don’t quite know, these aren’t my style really.”  
She smiled nervously, though I could tell she felt a little guilty for indulging me, “and what is your style?”  
I looked around a bit before settling on a small pink vibrator, completely unassuming and not even slightly sexual looking, at least, not to innocent eyes.  
“This is more of my thing.”  
“It looks like a pen.”  
I nodded, “see? There’s nothing scary about satisfying yourself.”  
She crossed her arms, “I just don’t think I’d be comfortable with it.”  
“Nobody is at first, but you should never feel guilty for something that’s perfectly natural.”  
She brushed her hair behind her ear as she looked down at the device, “I mean, I wouldn’t even know where to begin with it.”  
“Just do what feels good,” I smirked, my eyes darting to the purple one on the shelf, “do you want one?”  
“Oh, no, of course not, I-”  
“Oh, come on, you’re single, surely you’re pent up.”  
She couldn’t deny that. Her eyes darted from the toy in my hand to the one on the shelf, and I could tell she was feeling uncomfortable.  
Perhaps I pushed her too far, I thought.  
Then, she surprised me.  
“If I feel wrong about it can I take it back?”  
“I’ll buy it for you, if you don’t like it, you can just give it back to me.”  
She bit her lip and tightened her fist, before closing her eyes and nodding quickly, as if she didn’t want God to know what she was agreeing to.  
I felt like I had made an impact, finally, a dent in her tightly packed wall.  
I picked out the purple one and gave her the option, at which she gently pointed to the lavender shade.  
It felt like a wicked twist of worlds, here she was buying me my first meeting appropriate dress, and here I was buying her first sex toy.  
While my naughty side wanted to show her how it worked, the good girl in me said she would surely figure it out somehow.  
A week later, she gave me back the vibrator, still in its packaging, still in the bag.  
“I just can’t in good conscience use a sex toy, Jade, and I really feel like you shouldn’t be okay with it either.”  
I tried not to look sad, she at least tried to break the bubble, the thick JW shell that she was forced into having, that she had tried forcing me into having. I had to give her credit for even touching the damn thing, I felt guilty for having her try at all.  
That dress she bought me held a special place in my heart. I suppose she felt like since she was my bible teacher, she had to buy me my first meeting dress. A simple thing, but to me it was special.  
I will never forget that dress, I will never get rid of it or try to burn it from my memory, no matter how many times I wore it while tearing up in the bathroom over how destructive the JW lifestyle had become for me, no matter how embarrassed I was wearing it to my first Elder’s meeting, no matter the invisible Scarlet Letter that had been placed upon it once I was ostracized.  
I loved that dress, I always will.  
Even with what was to come.


	3. Chapter 2| EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade is surprised to find that Neeta is a little more liberal when she feels her work indoctrinating Jade is over, and a tragedy brings the girls closer together than ever before.

Chapter 2|  
EAT, DRINK, AND BE MERRY

A major aspect of my interest in the religion was how much emphasis Neeta put on family.  
Growing up my home was very tumultuous. My father was abusive and bigoted and frequently brought his steel coated fist down on the supposed wrongdoing he found going on in the home, like when my brother came out to me as trans and he overheard and decided to make him sleep outside until he could “act normal again.” And as for my sexuality, it came across as more of a tease to my dad, “oh, bisexual? You could get a lot of money in porn for that.”  
It came to the point where I just kept things to myself, because while my mom was understanding and supportive, if my Dad was in earshot then nothing was confidential.  
Dad began cheating on Mom when I was around 11 and fully aware of what was going on, and two years later they had an ugly and brutal divorce.  
My father caused a lot of pain to us, he tore the family apart. And at the end of it, he didn’t even want to see me or my brother anymore once it was all over.  
When I was 14, my mother met a man named Maxim Ochoa, a romantic and mysterious artist who worked as a bartender on a cruise. What began as a one-night-stand turned into him coming to live with us six months later. While I was originally opposed to this, his eccentric personality and genuinely good-hearted demeanor won me over. He and Mom have been going strong for 6 years, and their life together has been rather blissful. Maxim sells his paintings at weekly flea markets and yearly art shows, and teaches adult English classes online to do his part in making ends meet.  
They moved to Florida when I went to college, as Maxim had family who needed his help, his father had died, and his mother was suffering with dementia. My mom ended up loving it there so much, that even after Maxim’s mother passed away, they stayed, although Maxim had promised they could return to New York if she wanted to.  
He is a good man who taught me to follow my dreams, and that anything is possible with love.  
He would always tell me “True Love is Paradise.”  
Any and every time I came across that word in the JW books or the pamphlets or from the stage at the kingdom hall, my mind wandered to those glorious Christmases with my family, with my mom and Maxim and my brother who was no longer judged for who he was and I who was no longer teased for being different.  
Neeta seemed pretty intent on me missing Christmas in the year of my baptism. I had gone the year prior, and she forgave it, telling me she hadn’t made it clear enough that “True Worshippers” don’t do that.  
She made me so upset with statements like that. I knew that she was being controlling, she edged me here and there in such minor ways, then she’d come at me with something big like “don’t celebrate Christmas!”  
I struggled with thoughts of Christmas somehow being bad, and whether or not I should pay any mind to that part of the doctrine. One of the top things outsiders know about Jehovah’s Witnesses is that they don’t take part in holidays, but the holidays were my only time to see my family, surely I got a pass for that, right?  
I mentally grappled with it for a long time, and it gave me so much anxiety. JW brainwashing hits so hard and so fast that things you never took a second thought to would suddenly appear to be horrible, disgusting, and totally unthinkable.  
Like masturbation, same sex relations, cursing, smoking, drinking, partying, sex, watching an R-rated movie or-for fucks sake- doing yoga, Christmas had become a touchy subject that I was told was wrong, but then put it on my “I’ll just do it then pray for forgiveness later” list.  
Granted, once you were hit with the “obey or die” silent mantra that infected your brain and body, it became harder and harder to just do it then pray about it later.  
Neeta insisted that this wasn’t the case, and that JW’s had to put Jehovah above all things, including family.  
I was heartbroken, but still not entirely convinced.  
I loved my family. God would understand if I spent just one last holiday with them.  
The discussion came to a head again one day in November. It was the beginning of end for me, and it began in the coffee shop where we used to study once a week.  
“Sister Sophas went off on me again for my ring,” Neeta twirled her tea bag using her spoon, looking incredibly irritated.  
I chuckled knowingly, “she is quite the nitpicker.”  
“I just don’t get why she has to put her nose in my business,” she showed me her hand, her slender fingers outstretched as I gazed upon the diamond ring, “so what if it looks like an engagement ring? She says it will scare off potential suitors and then breed confusion since I’m only seen with you.”  
I gave her a head tilt, “like we’re a couple?”  
Neeta smiled, perhaps embarrassingly, “yeah, she knows we’re close, everyone does. But the fact that she’s trying to make it seem like our friendship could be taken the wrong way in a congregation that knows us so well, how much more ridiculous could you get?”  
I bit my lip, trying to calm down my jumping heart at the idea of us being mistaken for a couple, or perhaps the more elaborate idea of us even being a couple. Bad thoughts, bad thoughts I had to remind myself.  
“So is your family planning another holiday get together this year?” she asked.  
“Every year, Maxim loves the holidays.”  
I could tell she was looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to say “oh, but I’m not going this year of course.”  
“I know it will be hard for you, Jade.”  
I rolled my eyes with a playful smirk, “I mean, I haven’t decided if I’m going yet or not.”  
She turned her head to the side, eyes still locked on me, “but, you can’t, you’re baptized now.”  
“I know, but I could still go and just not partake, I want to see my family. One last holiday, then I can work out a different time of year to see them.”  
“Jade…” she scanned her brain for a bible scripture, I knew that look when I saw it.  
She came up empty handed when I snapped her back, “Neeta, it’s my life. Don’t pull a Sister Sophas on me,” I smiled to lighten the mood, “relax, it’s between me and Jehovah.”  
“Jehovah and I,” she corrected, then sighed, “I know I can’t force you, but I really hope you will reconsider.”  
That night, she sent me text after text of bible scriptures. None of them had anything to do with the holidays of course, but this was JW Neeta speaking. JW Neeta was kind of a bitch.  
JW Neeta felt the need to secure her own place in the congregation by controlling my thinking and my actions, and swaying opinions using bible scriptures. JW Neeta was not my friend, JW Neeta was not even real, and of this I was certain, because JW Neeta had no self-formed opinions, no internal monologue, and no thought process. She was purely a puppet for the 8 men in New York who had their fists up her ass. She was who I was supposed to be at this point.  
But I was not void of humanity, and while I believed the basics and did as I was told, my thoughts were still mostly my own. And Neeta had pieces of humanity left as well. Human Neeta, she’s the one I liked.  
Human Neeta is the one who would let her guard down when we were alone together, just a tad more each time. Human Neeta was the one who touched me tenderly and sensually, whether she intended on it or not, on my arm or my back or even my face on occasion. Human Neeta was the one who looked at me with big eyes and smiled through that layer of bullshit we called being a good Witness.   
Human Neeta even went against JW Neeta at times, for my sake and my sake only.  
“I won’t tell anyone if you go to see your family for the holidays, Jade. I’ll cover for your absence.”  
She surprised me on the way to the meeting with what she said. She was offering to cover up, for me?  
“You don’t have to cover for me, Neeta.”  
“Trust me, it’s better if we’re proactive to avoid the gossip. I’ll tell everyone you’re under the weather, alright?”  
“Sure thing,” I smiled gleefully, “should I pull a fake cough? Pretend I’m coming down?”  
She nodded with a grin, “schedule a cold lasting from around December 21st to December 27th?”  
“The perfect time to get a cold,” I said, then reached out to hold her hand, “thank you.”  
I meant it with sincerity. We were still weeks away from the trip at that time, so my mind was anywhere but preparing when I saw a familiar face enter the kingdom hall that night.  
Jeremiah Jackson, the man who was flirting with Neeta the day of my baptism.  
“Jeremiah Jackson, nice to meet you!” he’d say excitedly, grinning, to every fucking person he saw. It was obnoxious, on purpose too, he made it very clear that announcing his name was a way of exalting himself rather than a tick he couldn’t help.  
“You’ll remember my name if it’s the first thing you know about me.” I’d like to see his evidence for that statement, but that didn’t matter now.  
No, what mattered now was that he was coming straight for me and Neeta.  
Oh, sorry.  
Neeta and I.  
“Jeremiah Jackson-”  
“We’ve met.” I reached past Neeta to shake his hand, a bitchy move perhaps, but I needed him to at least sort of realize that any romantic advances wouldn’t be taken kindly.  
“That’s right, you’re the girl who got baptized the day I met you,” he switched his attention to Neeta, “and you are the beautiful woman who made it all possible.”  
“It was all thanks to Jehovah really, if it wasn’t through me she would have found the truth some way or another. She was a great student, and still is.”  
“And now you’re ready to become a teacher yourself!”  
I wanted to vomit.  
The man continued talking to Neeta as I turned around awkwardly, looking for something to distract myself with. I tried not to gaze too long at the two before me, preferring to focus on how I would mentally escape the brainwashing that night, my distaste for the religion growing evermore despite my new-ish beliefs.  
Keeping your eyes open during the meetings was the hardest part of being pimo, a term used by physically in, mentally out Jehovah’s Witnesses. I was not entirely pimo, I was more of a fence-sitter, trying to decide if my new life was truly bringing me as much happiness as I thought it would.  
I believed in God at that point, yes, and I had convinced myself that finding Neeta and immediately finding happiness in being with her and around her was supernatural evidence that this was the religion I belonged in. My stubborn nature and desire to go against the grain further influenced me, Ben had teased me from day one and my mother, while well meaning, always said things in a way that made me want to go against her, just to prove her wrong.  
Another part of me felt like leaving the religion and losing Neeta would crush me to the point where it wasn’t worth it. I’d rather stay with the bullshit and keep my family in the dark about my involvement than leave and lose Neeta.  
I got up from my seat and made my way to the bathroom, a ball of anxiety welling up in my stomach as I walked down the aisle and locked eyes with Jeremiah, who smiled and waved with a subtle giddiness as I smiled back fakely to return the favor.  
I entered the ladies room, angry fluorescent lights illuminating the pristine stalls and highlighting a gentle scent of manufactured roses, I looked at my face in the mirror while a vase of fabric white lilies obscured half the image.   
I took a few deep breaths, hoping to quell the coming anxiety attack, when Sister Sophas made a grand entrance and gave me an even faker smile than the one I had given Jeremiah.  
“How are you doing, Jade?” she spoke with a kind of forced whisper that wasn’t all that quiet at all.  
“I’m well.”  
“I haven’t seen you in service in a while.”  
“I’ve been really racked up with school.”  
“Oh, well does school come before Jehovah or does Jehovah come before school?” she raised an eyebrow at me then tsked, “I suppose all of us will learn who truly loved God at Armageddon, won’t we?”  
I shrugged, that ball in my stomach starting to grow spikes as I prayed she’d just leave without anymore condescending discourse.   
She looked in the mirror silently for a moment as she adjusted her hat and blouse, then she wandered off into a stall and closed the door with an echoing blast. Just when I thought I was free to walk away and get back to my seat, she spoke again.  
“Have you given any thought to pioneering? You know the circuit overseer will be coming soon.”  
“Um, I haven’t really, like I said, I don’t really have time-”  
“Ah, that’s right. Higher education,” she chuckled almost deviously, “well, I suppose you’ll make great fertilizer in the New World, my dear.”  
My heart sank with a mixture of disgust and guilt weighing it down. I furrowed my brow as my cheeks flushed with red, and for a millisecond I found the woman I once was before I was forced into the “new personality.”  
“You know, Sister Sophas, with all due respect, I’d say Jesus would look pretty low on you too for that comment alone.”  
My voice cracked and I left the bathroom, my anxiety melting into tears as I made my way outside, wet lines on my cheeks turning to ice as I broke down in the bitter cold.  
I clutched my arms close to my chest, my eyes shut against the moonlight, flinching as the door behind me closed with a gentle thud. I cried, I cried for the person I was before the witnesses, I cried for the day I decided to join, I cried for knowing what I knew now and knowing there was no going back.  
Why did Jehovah choose me to be his sheep? Why couldn’t I have just been left alone to die at Armageddon, with a slight chance of just getting resurrected?  
Why did I have to go through this trouble, I cried for that too.  
And lastly, was any of this even real to begin with?  
I cried, I prayed, and I sighed. I didn’t know how much time had gone by since my breakdown, I didn’t want to know. I wanted to be able to just go home, but I was freezing. I didn’t want to see Sister Sophas, or Jeremiah, or even Neeta.  
I just wanted to go home.  
But I couldn’t. Neeta was my ride, and all of my belongings were in the hall. I couldn’t walk home, or call for a ride, or pay for a bus. I just had to go inside, suck up my pride, and face the music.  
I got up shakily, craving nothing more than a warm blanket and a cup of tea, my legs were aching from crouching on them and my dress was wet from the snow.  
I sat down next to Neeta, shivering and reaching for my jacket clumsily while trying not to attract attention to myself.  
She seemed concerned, and wrote down on her notepad before showing it to me, everything okay?  
I nodded and sniffled, then leaned forward and whispered in her warm ear, “Sister Sophas.”  
Her eyebrows raised and she nodded, she understood.  
“She means well,” she whispered back to me. I wanted to cry again. The old bitch was always protected from consequence purely for the fact that she was an old pioneer.  
Promise your life to a cult and do what they say, and you can get away with anything.

Later that night after the meeting, Neeta received a disturbing call.  
It came from an unsaved number, and yet she seemed frantic to answer it.  
“Hello?” She answered, not saying a name. She paused a moment, allowed the muffled voice on the other end to speak, then looked over at me with far-off, teary eyes. I could tell without a word that it was bad news.  
“Ok.” Was all she said before she lowered the phone from her ear and allowed the person on the other end to hang up.  
I wasn’t one to push for details, so I just waited with her, the chill of the car growing stronger as every second ticked by, feeling like hours as our misty breaths synchronized.  
“My dad died.”  
“Oh,” I felt shocked, Neeta’s father had been disfellowshipped about two years prior. He became a so-called “raging apostate,” and Neeta was forced to cut ties with him. Her stepmother had left the religion right after marrying him, so Neeta had no reason to visit or catch up once her father was out of the JW picture as well.  
He developed cancer around a decade ago, originally being “okay” with leaving this world as it is, and therefore not doing much to be proactive in fighting his diagnosis as a Witness.  
Frequent nights away from the brainwashing as he laid in bed sick from pain that he refused to medicate for, he stumbled upon some questions he just couldn’t answer, he developed resentment towards a God he had dedicated his life to, and he eventually began to dive deep into the truth about “the truth” with the help of his wife.  
According to Neeta, he began fighting for his life at this point, realizing it was all he had. But, in my opinion at least, the loss of his family, friends, and much of his support system caused him to give up the fight for his life a second time.  
The brothers and sisters who were once by his side, offering to take him to treatments and bringing him meals during the week, the true and unconditional love they showed him completely ceased once he began questioning the religion.  
He fell into a depression, gave up on treatments as the cancer ravaged his body, and died.  
I said nothing.  
Neeta held back tears and started up the car, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize,” she said, referencing the chill of the interior.  
“Don’t worry about it,” I reached out for her hand and pulled her into a loving, yet stern hug. I wanted so badly for her to know I was there for her.  
“I should have been there for him, Jade. He was in so much pain.”  
“It’s not your fault. He knew you loved him.”  
“He didn’t. He died thinking I hated him,” a crack in the image of perfection, “he died without me by his side, he died because… because…”  
I could feel the first layer fly off in a shiver, in this moment of vulnerability, I saw who she was inside fully for the very first time.  
“It’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up,” she was so beautiful, so fragile despite putting on this seemingly impenetrable diamond armor of perfection and godly power. But those diamonds weren’t real, I knew that they were only pretty glass, and I knew that when they shattered, she would realize it was a cage, and not a protection.  
She drove me to my flat, not saying a single word on the way there. I held her hand the entire way, never disturbing her from her thoughts, or lack thereof.  
She sat in park, waiting for me to leave I supposed. I grabbed my purse and put my hand on the car door, and suddenly she piped up, “would it be okay if I came in?”  
I had class in the morning and really needed to get to bed, but I smiled softly and nodded my head “of course, whatever you need, I’m here for you.”  
We sat in silence for a while, side by side on the couch with cups of hot coco warming our hands. She was holding back tears, taking in her feelings and actively analyzing what they meant.  
“I’m so sorry, Neeta.”  
She sighed, placed the cup down on the coffee table in front of her and let the tears finally fall.  
She wailed as I rushed to hold her, rocking her gently as I held her head to my heart and she soaked my chest in her tears. She was so overcome by emotion that I thought her grief would never cease, and even if it didn’t, I would have held her forever.  
“I shouldn’t feel this way, he hated Jehovah, I should be stronger,” she whimpered through tears, trying so hard to fight the pain of losing her father with useless JW rhetoric.  
“You are allowed to feel,” I held her closer and moved my head to cover hers, “and you are allowed to love whoever you want. Especially your family.”  
She sucked in air sharply, making a noise that sounded like a retort, but calmly gave up and held me back, continuing to cry softly.  
There was something of a bittersweet silence amongst her gasps and moans of emotional pain. It felt like it lasted for days, but when I came to realize I had been dozing off between those pauses of silent crying, I saw she had curled up on my lap, her hands turned inward like a little girl holding an invisible doll.  
I kept my hand in place on her stomach, laid my head back on the couch, and drifted off to sleep in what was equally the most comfortable and uncomfortable position in that moment.  
Three days went by, and I hadn’t heard a word from Neeta, not even for Saturday morning service.  
Saturday was my one break in the week from work, school, and meetings, with the exception of service.  
Neeta didn’t work, and she didn’t go to school. She had no secular activities outside of the congregation, she pioneered full time and her roommate’s parents paid for them both to live in a decent apartment downtown.  
Paying for them to pioneer full time and live comfortably was their way of sacrificing for Jehovah, they would tell me.  
“Jehovah blessed us with well-paying jobs, we are in the perfect position to provide for two full time pioneers in return.”   
I was jealous, of course, and I told Neeta that. She told me they’d be happy to pay for me too if I decided to pioneer, and that I could move in with Neeta after her roommate, Adalia, moved out with her future husband.  
I told her I wouldn’t feel comfortable living off someone else’s wage, and she got a little offended at that, but understood.  
Not that I wouldn’t love living with Neeta, and I was looking forward to the day her roommate got married and left, but have someone else pay for me to live under the condition that I work to recruit new members for the cult? I didn’t think so, even while pimi, that was out of the picture.  
Needless to say, Neeta had dedicated her entire life to this religion. It was her job, her lifeblood, her future.  
I adjusted to that, I knew that if I was going to put on this JW suit and stick to the promise I made in the pool during my baptism, I needed to act like this was important to me too, even if that meant sneaking off to the bathroom to watch Netflix on my phone when the meetings got too judgy, or heading outside to walk around and relieve my anxiety a tad. I just hoped Jehovah understood, I hoped he understood that I was losing faith every day, and that aborting my critical thinking was becoming more and more painful to do.  
So to make up for my lack of faith, every Saturday I was ready in my service outfit, studying the Daily Text, preparing some kind of half-assed introduction, and waiting for Neeta to text or call. That day was no different.  
I waited for thirty minutes, then an hour. I took off my meeting shoes, thinking that perhaps she could sense me getting comfortable from miles away and pounce on the phone to say “I’m outside, you ready?”  
I called, left a voicemail, sent texts. It was far past time for service when I started getting worried, she never cancelled on me, and on the rare occasion that she did, she always let me know the exact reason she was cancelling.  
“Adalia’s mom had a slip and is in hospital, so we’re going to see her now.”  
“Power is out at the Kingdom Hall due to the storm, brothers suggest we skip for today!”  
“Car won’t start and I can’t get anyone to spare me a ride today, I’m sorry!”  
I bit my lip, the last solution to quelling my worry would be to just put on some pants and head to her place.  
I gave in to the thought, ensured I picked the least service-like clothes I could muster up just in case she asked if I wanted to go for midday service with her, and I set on my way.  
Adalia’s car was gone, so I assumed that perhaps the two of them went for service and just figured I’d want to sleep in for some reason? Perhaps Adalia’s silent grudge against me had finally won Neeta over and they collectively gave up on getting me interested in continuing my indoctrination?  
I decided to knock on the townhome door regardless, and I heard a fettered “who is it?” on the other end.  
“It’s me, Jade.”  
The sound of shuffling, then hurried unlocking of the door, and suddenly a very tired looking, rather depressed Neeta opened the door, nothing but a robe, white T-shirt, and baggy sweatpants covering her tiny figure.  
She gave me a slight smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t answer, I didn’t want to worry you.”  
“It’s not your fault, I just wanted to check on you.”  
“I haven’t been the same since Wednesday night. Would you like to come in?”  
I nodded, and she opened the door wider, inviting me inside the beautiful, spotless home.  
Spotless except for the couch, and the dozens of boxes now lining the wall.  
“Are you moving, Neeta?”  
“No. Adalia is, she’s eloping,” Neeta slumped down on the couch in a huff, looking nothing like the woman she usually was.  
“Eloping?”  
“Eric is tired of all the hoops they have to jump through to get married in the kingdom hall, so they’re eloping. She’s moving her stuff into his place now.”  
I chuckled, “that seems a little extreme, why not just get married somewhere besides the hall?”  
“Well, Adalia’s parents were pretty intent that if they were to have a holy marriage it would need to be in the hall.”  
“I guess the rents will always ruin everything,” I came to sit down next to her, cupping my hands as I turned to meet her gaze, “how are you doing, you know, in general?”  
She looked at me sincerely, pain in her eyes as she searched for words, “I feel broken, Jade,” she took a pause to sigh, “I’m not even invited to the funeral. My stepmother said if I couldn’t bother to see him when he was alive, then I have no reason to see him now.”  
I patted her on the back, resting my hand on her shoulder, “I think you need a vacation, Neeta.”  
She shook her head softly, “with what money, Jade? I only have enough to get by.”  
“Come with me to America for the-” I paused, I was about to say Holidays, I needed a less offensive word, “-to see my family for the Winter.”  
She caught the pause, and her eyes closed tight, a slight grimace taking hold of her lips until she sighed and responded softly, “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Jade.”  
“Neeta, I swear, if you feel uncomfortable we can just go somewhere else. But it will be a nice getaway, you’ll meet my family,” I searched for something else wholesome and JW friendly that we could do, “we could see the American kingdom halls, make new friends.”  
She was thinking about it, I could tell, “give me a couple days to consider, okay?”  
I knew if I gave her that inch, she would turn it into a mile and come back with a thousand witness reasons why she couldn’t go, so I put some coals under her feet, “my mom is buying the tickets tonight, she gets a good deal with her job but only if it’s exactly two weeks in advance.”  
Neeta closed her eyes, I could tell she was saying a quick prayer under her breath, a habit I found adorable if we’re being honest. She always needed that little burst of reassurance before making a big decision.  
“Okay,” she said delicately, “I’ll come.”  
I grinned, then pulled her close for a hug, “you’re going to have the time of your life, Neeta, I swear it!”  
I hadn’t felt that happy and excited for the future in a while. Was there an ulterior motive to getting her out of the uber Jdub environment? Yes, of course, but it was for her own good. She needed to experience happiness, true happiness. I did too.  
And I was going to do my best to make sure she felt that happiness on our getaway.  
On our holiday.


	4. Chapter 3| YOU MUST NOT TOUCH IT, OR YOU WILL DIE.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Sexual Content

Chapter 3|  
YOU MUST NOT TOUCH IT, OR YOU WILL DIE.  
I stood beside Neeta in that moment, and all I felt was immense love for her.  
Beneath a cotton candy sky and pristine, fluffy white grass, I sighed to myself, my blue dress floating in the wind, holding Neeta’s hand, looking around at the mystical place before us.  
I asked her, “what is this place?”  
And she told me, “this is the New World.”  
And I smiled with joy, feeling I had made it, feeling proud of myself in my heart, that nothing stopped me from pleasing God, and this was my reward.  
Then Neeta looked at me sensually, she held my arms tightly and locked my lips in hers.  
When the shock subsided, I fell deep into the kiss, my hands reaching automatically for her tender breasts, the feeling in my hands turning me on immensely.  
She dropped to her knees and lifted the skirt of my dress, licking at my slit as I moaned in pleasure.  
And just as I felt myself near climax, the pink skies and perfect beauty all around me began to collapse.  
The trees made of gold melted before my eyes, and a rough harsh wind picked up and ripped through the land.  
The skies turned red with blood, the blood of those I was responsible for killing because I hadn’t taught them the Truth.  
I tried to run away, Neeta disappearing as I cried out for her, not knowing where to turn.  
An eerie screaming song raged in my ears, all of my senses destroyed by the pain as an army of birds erupted from a volcano and flew to me, darting into my eyes and ripping my flesh apart.  
I screamed in agony and fell to the ground, “I’m sorry Jehovah!”  
My paradise was taken away from me, and I awoke, a sweat staining my face as a warm wetness permeated my underwear.  
I tried my best to comprehend the dream, the second part of it was obvious, a bunch of longtime witnesses I knew had nightmares of dying at Armageddon, it’s a common fear. But the first part was somehow unthinkable for me.  
I had a wet dream about Neeta.  
I never realized my attraction to her, and it was only after that dream that I had begun to acknowledge it. Yes, I always knew I was bisexual, I’ve dated women and I was even open to Neeta about this, but, my bible teacher? Of all people, the one I had come to know and trust like a sister? The one I had come to love as a friend?  
Still, I couldn’t shake it. Suddenly, like a fire had awakened within me, every thought of her, especially the way she looked at me in my dream, sent shivers down my spine and released butterflies in my stomach. My heart started beating a little faster, and I reached down to feel between my legs, embracing the warmth.  
No, I thought, remembering God was probably looking at me with disgust at that very moment. But the regret, the guilt, the forbidden fruit of it all made it all the more exciting.  
So, I continued to touch myself, thinking of Neeta, biting my lip and moaning to myself and myself alone, until I climaxed into a wave of guilt and ecstasy.  
I laid there for a while, all alone, guilt racking my brain as I berated myself, was it worth it? Was a couple minutes of pleasure worth ruining my perception of my friend?  
I groaned further when I remembered it was Sunday, a meeting day, and in about four hours I’d be seeing Neeta after having just polished my pearl to the thought of her eating me out in Paradise.  
Blasphemous.  
I didn’t even think I could face her after what I had done. It’s normal to get a crush on a friend, and this wasn’t something I had never done before. But as a Jehovah’s Witness, every “sin” is artificially heightened.  
She arrived right on time, stark contrast to the day prior when she didn’t show up at all. My always on time Bible teacher seemed to have renewed her roots rather quickly after the minor breakdown.   
When I got in the car, however, her pink eyes and lap full of tissues told a different story.  
“Are you alright?”  
She nodded, the edges of her lips forming the slightest curl, “I know once I get that spiritual food in me I’ll be okay again.”  
I wanted to hug her, or touch her shoulder, anything to try and show I was there for her, but I felt dirty for even thinking about it, you just want to touch her for your own selfish desires, perv.  
I shook the feeling and pressed on, feeling guilty, so extremely guilty.  
From early on Neeta had told me that if I ever had any questions, doubts or concerns, she’d be there to guide me through it.  
I struggled with the thought of telling her, but I didn’t want the guilt to go on and ruin our friendship. I decided to keep the details to a minimum.  
“Neeta, can I talk to you about something?”  
“Anything at all.”  
“If someone were struggling with same-sex attraction, what would you advise them to do?”  
“Well, there’s a chapter in the Young People Ask book,” she looked in my direction, eyes still on the road but slightly to me, “but if there’s been wrongdoing I’d suggest speaking to the elders.”  
“Right,” the guilt piled up, guilt from snapping at Sister Sophas at the previous meeting, guilt for having that dream, guilt for acting on my desire for Neeta.  
I just wanted to run away. I was never going to do right by this religion, it was too hard, God wasn’t calling me anymore, I was doomed.  
We arrived at the meeting, my heart pumping fast in my chest as I walked in from the bitter cold into the yellow and bright hall, spotting Sister Sophas talking with two other older sisters before turning to me and giving a slight nod as she whispered something to them.  
Guilt now turned to humiliation as the others turned to me as well, barely hiding their shame.  
“You alright?” Neeta put an arm around me, I bit my lip.  
“I’m fine.”  
Two elders took a leisurely walk up to us, fake smiles plastered on their cold faces as their eyes locked onto me, “Jade, could we speak to you for a moment?”  
I raised an eyebrow, “me? Why?”  
“We just need to talk about a situation that has been ongoing,” the shorter -and older- elder asked.  
I looked at Neeta in fear, she patted me on the shoulder “I’ll be at our usual seats, okay?”  
I nodded unsurely before reluctantly following them into a small room in the back.  
“Please, take a seat,” I did as I was told, and held my tongue, waiting for whatever accusation was about to be thrown my way, my heart hanging itself on my intestines.  
After a very brief and anxiety ridden prayer asking for discretion and clarity, the younger elder began.  
“Jade, we have heard a rumor going around and we want to address it.”  
“A rumor?”  
“Yes,” the older one piped in, “about you and Neeta.”  
“There is some concern that you two have an inappropriate relationship.”  
I furrowed my brow and shook my head, “it’s… that’s not true, we never-”  
“Two sisters have come forward with concerns that they saw Neeta entering your house after a meeting and she allegedly did not leave until the next morning. Usually, we’d only take concern with this if you were a heterosexual couple, but, knowing your history of lesbian affairs-”  
“Who said these things?! How did they even know Neeta didn’t leave until the next morning?” I snapped back, cutting off the younger elder.  
“Jade, we want this to be as civil as possible, we’re going to be speaking to Neeta right after you. But essentially these concerned sisters were on their way to the Kingdom Hall for service and happened to pass by when Neeta was leaving your residence, and one confirmed to the other that she had arrived after the meeting the night before.”  
“I thought when a witness had an issue with another witness they were to go to the person they had an issue with first, not straight to the congregation.”  
“Seeing as there were two witnesses to the assumed sin, we need to escalate this as wrongdoing.”  
“But I didn’t do anything wrong, neither did Neeta, I was just consoling her through her father’s death.”  
The older elder raised a hand in protest, “whatever your reasoning, Jade, this needs to be taken seriously.”  
The younger elder began fiddling with his tablet, “Jade, I’d like you to read this scripture, it’s here in 1st John chapter 1, verse 9-”  
“No,” I shook my head and kicked my feet from the floor, sending my chair backwards a foot, “I’m not reading anything, no more.”   
“Jade, we only want to help you.”  
“No, you don’t. You want to control me,” I got up, clutching my purse close to my chest as I began to walk backwards, “you’re treating me like I’m on trial for murder, I did nothing wrong.”  
“Well, when we talk to Neeta, we can-”  
“Talk to Neeta then. Or maybe, talk to the two cunts who found it necessary to spy on us!”  
I stormed out of the room, out of the hall. The music had just began and the chimes and horns were ringing in my ears as voices loud as thunder drained my thoughts away from my fiery head. I walked out into the cold, away from the hall. I kept walking, regardless of my heels, regardless of the weather, regardless of the tears that dripped down my face and away from my eyes.  
My head began to ache when I looked up, the clouds fading from my brain, to see I had walked all the way to an empty plaza. I felt a little safer now, being far away from those menacing elders who probably just wanted to get their rocks off on the thought of Neeta and I fucking like rabbits after a meeting.  
How naughty, how scandalous, how absolutely insulting to assume such a disgusting thing off the words of none other than two bored old women with nothing better to do. I was more than willing to bet my right tit that one of them was Sister Sophas.  
Fuck. That’s all I could think as I found a free bench and sat down among the chill, fuck fuck fuck FUCK!  
I loved Neeta, as I was coming to acknowledge. Somewhere somehow I had allowed her to crawl into my mind and awaken my sexuality once more. After deadening it for so long, I was falling in love with a woman again.  
And I couldn’t do shit about it.  
I felt a strong vibration in my purse, and I knew the caller immediately, even before reaching into my bag and lifting the hot pink brick to my ear.  
“Neeta, I-”  
“Where are you, Jade?” she said sternly. I was surprised in her tone.  
“I’m at the plaza up the road.”  
“I’m coming to get you,” she hung up, and I waited.  
She drove up rather aggressively, and I could see through the windshield the tears of black mascara staining her perfect skin.  
I walked up to the red sedan, shyly opening up the door as I graced the warm interior.  
She looked at me with concern, “I’m sorry if I sounded snippy on the phone, I just-”  
She started to cry, heaps of tears falling from her face. I reached forward and held her, ignoring my own pleas to ignore the temptation for my own sake.  
My inability to hush my love for her was growing with every teardrop. God, please, don’t tell me she’s the secret behind my dedication to you. Don’t tell me she’s the one I actually love.  
“How could they assume something so horrible of us!” Neeta gasped in frustration and angst, “it’s like they know nothing about me, they just assumed the absolute worst. They didn’t even know my Dad died, and then they told me I shouldn’t grieve for him, that I should be like Aaron and not mourn the death of a non-believer.”  
I sighed, almost with relief, at her frustration with the elders. I felt like I wasn’t alone and that my feelings weren’t the result of the devil infiltrating my mind.  
She continued, “I just couldn’t handle it, I ran out. Then I noticed I hadn’t seen you since you went to speak with them, I was worried.”   
She shook her head, I sat in silence.  
I heard the gentlest drip of rain hit the car’s chilly exterior, the click sounding like it had become ice right upon impact. I felt a chill go down my spine in response to the noise, and then came another, and another.  
The drizzle became a storm, and within a minute, the car was drenched in waves of icy water.  
“I don’t think the shunning policy is biblical, Jade,” she shook her head continually, “Jesus ate with sinners, he told the parable of the Prodigal Son, and not once did he say the father should have abandoned his child. I just don’t understand the hypocrisy.”  
“I just want to run away, Neeta.”  
“This is my fault, Jade. I took you into this.”  
“I wanted to be in it.”  
“But now look at us, the congregation thinks we’re in a homosexual relationship, our reputations are ruined.”  
“And who’s fault is that? Mine, for comforting a friend in need? You, for losing your father? It’s unreasonable,” I rubbed her back and nodded reassuringly, “God will see that.”  
She sighed, then turned to me, her eyes glazed with confused sadness. She leaned forward and tenderly kissed my cheek, sending shockwaves down my spine.  
“You’re a good friend to me. The best I’ve ever had,” she leaned her head on my shoulder, “and I can’t wait to get away with you,” the gentlest smile to break a tiny piece of tension away from the moment.  
We sat there for a while, icy rain pounding the window, desire dying down as the clock ticked forward and the heat of the moment faded to a tender point in time.


	5. Chapter 4| EVEN THOUGH I WALK THROUGH THE DARKEST VALLEY, I WILL FEAR NO EVIL

Chapter 4|  
EVEN THOUGH I WALK THROUGH THE DARKEST VALLEY, I WILL FEAR NO EVIL

My last time dating a woman was intense and earth shattering.  
She was the white-trash daughter of a Welfare Queen who spent her days high and her nights trading money for sex. She was the type of person you see walking down the street with a cigarette in hand and her shorts up to her hip and you can’t help but feel a mixture of pity and disgust.  
But she was all these things. Come her twenty third birthday and her third time in the hospital for overdosing, she came around, sought out help, and made life better for herself. Her mother had just died of heart failure the night I met her at a hospital, I was there visiting my brother when he had his appendix removed.  
She was outside smoking a cigarette and I was outside seeking fresh air, I locked eyes with her, and there was an instant connection.  
The next two weeks were filled with an intense infatuation that I nearly called love. In reality, it was a lot of sex and discovery about myself and my sexuality. She had this beautiful tiny apartment right by the beach, at night she kept the windows open and as the cool breeze forced us closer into each other’s embrace, the only sounds we could hear were the waves of the ocean and the gasps of our synchronized breaths.  
Aly was her name. I said that name over and over as she ravished me and awakened my sexual fury. Aly… Aly… Aly.  
Two weeks later I had start preparing to go home, and what I predicted to be an emotional breakup became her giving me a quick hug and a kiss goodbye, along with a “good luck out there, kid” as I left her apartment the day before heading back to New York.  
It felt unusually cold, but it also helped me get over the fact that a relationship would be next to impossible with her. She was one of those untamed souls you only meet in romantic dramas and independently owned coffee shops.  
I tried relationships with women again afterwards, just as I had before her. But the lack of passion lead to me just comparing everyone to her, and I gave up on dating women. I met Ben not long after and ended up dating him, believing him to be my “settle.”  
Then I met Neeta.  
It’s a rarity in the days of swiping on your smartphone to find a mate to meet someone in the real world and feel a connection far beyond what you currently have in reality. I didn’t immediately acknowledge my feelings, not until after her father died. I didn’t want to admit that my desire to find God, and my belief in having finally done it, was just a subconscious ploy to get into Neeta’s pants.  
Human emotions are so much more complex than “see pretty woman, fall in love with pretty woman, marry pretty woman.” Especially when knowing for a fact that Neeta would have zero interest in sharing my feelings, my brain needed a reason to keep seeing her.  
So it stayed bottled up, and over time, layers and layers of homophobia and self-suppression were buried on top, until one day I could no longer hold it back. It rose from the ashes like a Phoenix that could no longer be trapped in a bird cage.  
My prior dream of passionate cunnilingus with Neeta lead way to a maddening desire growing within me. My heart jumped when she messaged me, my anxiety crawled up my spine when I saw her face, and now, three days before we left for Florida, I found myself fantasizing about making love to her in my parent’s guest bedroom.  
At the same time, I was fighting thoughts of unholiness and guilt. If not for God, then the guilt was for feeling like I was exploiting a friend, and if not for that, then it was guilt for displeasing God, and so on the guilt circled and spun.  
And somewhere in between I knew it was all bullshit, but to admit to the bullshit would mean to admit the religion was wrong, and to do that would mean to leave, and to leave would mean to never see Neeta again.  
I felt confused, I felt dirty.  
And as I stared into my soggy bowl of cornflakes, I sighed. A drip of water from my hair falling into the milk, the splash reminding me of the ten-minute romp I had just endured in the shower with myself and my imaginary Neeta, another drip and my guilt came over me like a regretful orgasm.  
My phone buzzed with life, and I reached out to flip it over. Maxim Ochoa.  
I answered with a melancholy tone, “hey Max.”  
“Jade! How is my favorite blonde doing today?”  
I chuckled, “I’m very well, Max. Excited for the trip.”  
“Ah yes, your little friend Neeta is coming right?”  
“Yeah actually, she’s never been to Florida before.”  
“Right, right. I wanted to ask if you two wouldn’t mind, uh, sleeping in the same bed?”  
My eyes went wide, “uh, well, I was planning on using the air mattress or taking the couch.”  
“Right, well, the couch is being claimed by Alex’s friend Nikki, we’re taking her in as she’s recently been made homeless by a pair of intolerant parents,” Max lowered his voice, “she came out of the closet and it did not go well.”  
“Oh, well that’s unfortunate,” I frowned at the circumstance, “but what about the air mattress?”  
“Eh, Alex again actually, he decided that using it as a float in the pool would be a good idea, the dog jumped on it and they both went sinking. Mattress is destroyed, I could get another if need be but if you don’t mind sleeping together,” he trailed off, I giggled at the idea of Alex sinking on an air mattress in the pool. Classic of him, honestly.  
“Oh, well, in that case, I’m sure it wouldn’t be a big deal.”  
“Great! I shall see you Saturday then! Looking forward to-”  
“Wait, Max-”  
“Yeah Pumpkin?”  
“Can I talk to you about something?”  
“Anything.”  
I breathed in my anxiety, the acknowledgement of what I was about to say totally strangling my heart, “I think I’m falling in love with Neeta.”  
I could feel Max’s thick eyebrows raise high above his hazel eyes even over the phone. He let out a “Psssh” sound, as if he were audibly processing a response.  
“Damn. Do you think she feels the same?”  
“I don’t think so, I mean,” I sighed and twirled my hair nervously, “we’re supposed to be Jehovah’s Witnesses, you know?”  
He laughed, “I honestly never thought you were taking that seriously, Pumpkin. I always kinda wondered if you were just doing it for her.”  
“You did?”  
“Yeah. I mean, I never thought you to be the religious type. I wasn’t going to just assume it was for a girl but I always wondered where your zeal was coming from.”  
Something about that made me smile, “you really think it was all for her?”  
“I dunno, kiddo. I know ever since the Aly thing you had a difficult time with girls. You dropped everything to be with her. You asked me if you could drop out of school just to move in with her, Jade,” he chuckled to himself subtly, “not that there is anything wrong with loving someone wholeheartedly, but if you don’t mind some constructive criticism, you don’t always place that wholehearted love in the right spot.”  
I gulped, a sudden realization taking over me, “you think I really wasted all this time chasing her and I didn’t even notice it.”  
“Oh, kiddo,” he tsked at me, “you knew. You just didn’t want to admit it.”  
I frowned, my eyebrows pushing a tear out of my eyes, “I,” I couldn’t figure out what to say to that.  
It was a sudden realization that I somehow trusted fully. Within my head I played a dance, Neeta coming towards me smiling while our favorite song played.  
Every moment I spent with her this past year, giving up so much for her, holding her close when she comforted me or when I comforted her, the love bombing she subjected me to when I did something right, and to be reassured that for once in my life I was doing something worthwhile.  
Maybe I really was just in love with her.  
“Kiddo?” Max broke my heavyhearted silence.  
“Well, what do I do now?”  
“You tell her. You have to.”  
“I what?!”  
“Unrequited love leaves stories untold. Swallow your anxiety and tell her. Otherwise, you’ll just be miserable, and you’ll always be wondering “what if?””

I tried to take that advice to heart. I walked to Neeta’s with the full intention of telling her I was in love with her, that I didn’t care about this religion anymore if it meant I couldn’t be with her, and even if it ruined our friendship, I had to be honest with my feelings.  
I had it all laid out, “Neeta, I’m in love with you.”  
“Neeta, I’m madly in love with you.”  
Perhaps the madly was too much. “Neeta, I’m absolutely, without a doubt, totally, undeniably-”  
“Jade? What are you doing here?”  
I gulped; Neeta looked perturbed. Perhaps now was not the time.  
“I have to talk to you,” she pushed me away from the door as a woman’s voice called out “who’s at the door?! Is that her?!”  
As Neeta walked out, I caught Adalia staring me down from behind the door.  
“Is this a bad time?”  
Neeta crossed her arms and shook her head, “no, no, just a spat. It happens.”  
“Oh, well,” I grabbed the back of my head and kicked up a foot, “I just wanted to, well…”  
Full stop, I couldn’t say it.  
“Neeta!” Adalia swung the door open, hands on her hips, her brows furrowed.  
“Adalia, please.”  
“The entire congregation knows, Neeta. You’re the reason I can’t get married in the Kingdom Hall!”  
I gave a confused look, “what is she talking about, Neeta?”  
“It’s nothing, can you just go home for now? I’ll come by Friday night before we go to the airport.”  
I nodded, “of course,” then looked at the woman behind her, “nice to see you again, Adalia.”  
Things didn’t get cleared up for me Friday either. She refused to talk about what happened, even tried denying Adalia was upset at all.  
I gave up on goading her and ended up breaking the news to her about the bedroom situation instead.  
“I don’t mind sharing a bed.”  
“You don’t?”  
“Of course not. I trust you,” she smiled before placing the warm cup of tea to her lips. Sitting close to her on the couch, all alone as we had been hundreds of times before, felt oddly intimate now. I couldn’t help but place my hand on the small of her back as the TV droned on in the background, distracting our subconscious minds from what our bodies were doing.  
She leaned into me, her head placed gently in the crook of my neck. I kissed her hair with a smile, and she moved forward to place her mug down on the coffee table before turning to me and cupping her hands together.  
“Jade, can I ask you something?”  
I nodded, “of course.”  
“Suppose you came across apostate information, what would you make of it?”  
My eyes widened, “I-, I’m not sure. I guess it depends on what it is.”  
She breathed in deeply, “you know how in the bible, it discusses knowing God’s people through their fruits, and how Jesus told the parable of the talents?”  
I nodded, “yeah, the man gives money to his slaves and each one does something different with it.”  
“Yes, two of them gain interest on the talents, which makes the master happy. But the last one is cowardly and hides the one talent he is given, and the master is upset and throws him out into the darkness.”  
I nodded again, not quite getting what conclusion she was arriving to.  
“Well, I have always understood this story to be about the faithful slave, the governing body. That they are in submission to God and Jehovah has given them tasks to do, and to remain in favor with Jehovah they must do what God instructs,” she twiddled her thumbs, “Jade, what if the governing body has fallen out of favor with Jehovah already?”  
“This is a really deep question, Neeta.”  
“It’s not impossible though, I’m not wrong for that speculation, am I? I mean, ultimately my faith is to Jehovah and Jesus, right? Not any organization.”  
I was in shock, I almost wanted to pinch myself, “what makes you come to this conclusion though?”  
“I came across some websites that said a few things I still find hard to believe. And I couldn’t believe it to be true, so I dug deeper,” she sighed, “that was my mistake, I came across these videos of women and men saying that they had been abused by elders. I thought again, surely the governing body has condemned this, but then I found lies, blatant lies, coverups, corruption, in the organization I was born and raised in.”  
I understood, or at least had context, to what Adalia was yelling about now, “I understand entirely, Neeta. And I support your concern.”  
“But?” She looked at me with hope, like I was about to shoot her down and give her a clear cut answer to keep her in the religion.  
I shook my head, “I don’t have an answer for you.”  
“Tell me I’m wrong!”  
“What?”  
“Tell me I’m wrong, tell me it’s not true!” She began to choke, her words cracking like a bad signal.  
“What, lie to you?”  
“No, tell me it’s a lie, tell me what I read was just Satan trying to break my faith!”  
“I can’t do that, Neeta, I have doubts too,” I bit my lip, “I always have.”  
She held her head low, “I can’t accept being right about this.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because if I accept this, then it means I shunned my dad for nothing! It has to be the truth, Jade, it has to be!”  
She threw herself into my arms, tears falling from her face. I held her tightly to my chest, I understood her pain. I couldn’t imagine that kind of pain, to shun my family, have them die and never say goodbye.  
It killed me to even think about.   
But it wasn’t her fault.  
“Neeta, you thought you were doing the right thing.”  
“No, don’t tell me that.”  
“But you thought you were.”  
“But I wasn’t.”  
I paused.  
“Yeah.”  
I didn’t know what to say.  
I didn’t know how to feel, I didn’t know how she felt.  
I just didn’t know.  
She looked me in my eyes, and for a second I swore she was going to kiss me.  
She leaned forward and rested her forehead right against my cheek.  
She folded her body to be held within mine, her fingers resting just under her neck, just above my breasts, her legs tucked in on my lap like a baby in the womb.  
I held her close, tightly. I whispered kind words to her and did my best to hold her steady.  
“I love you,” I whispered. The connotation was lost amongst her empty sobs, she nodded as a return and faded away in my arms.


End file.
